


Saudade

by KillerQueen20



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Character Death, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Heavy Angst, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Post Armageddon't, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Revenge, Tragedy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerQueen20/pseuds/KillerQueen20
Summary: Saudade:A melancholy nostalgia for something that perhaps has not even happened. It often carries an assurance that this thing you feel nostalgic for will never happen again.He's been dreaming of this day since ever.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 58





	Saudade

He's been dreaming of this day since ever.

The judge's voice is crisp and clear, despite being in a spacious garden, one that seemed to have miraculously resisted the irremediable passage of time and the shifting in the world around it.

Crowley looked at him as if at this moment he was the only thing that mattered in his world, the same expression on his face had the day he looked at Aziraphale with a ring in his hand and with the words _"Will you marry me?"_ coming out trembling and nervous from his lips. Aziraphale still remembers that moment he feels his face redden and the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Although covered by those inseparable dark glasses, the eyes of the red-haired demon glow with such enthusiasm that Aziraphale, despite having lived with him for the nothing negligible amount of 6000 years, had never seen or perceived in the eyes of the demon.

He is quite sure that he is crying a little, he couldn't help it, he's been dreamed of this day since forever.

"You can't be serious," he remembers telling the redhead when he saw him kneeling in front of him while Crowley showed him a small but glowing ring. He may be a principality and one of the most courageous and faithful angels of the almighty, but he still feels weak at Crowley's nervous smile and the silver, simple, and gleaming band in his hand.

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't be kneeling here staining my pants, right?" Crowley had said with false irritation and a touch of sarcasm so typical of him.

Aziraphale is silent and Crowley lets out a shaky laugh. "You are making me quite nervous, angel."

He says nothing, but his knees collide with the ground as he falls, pulling Crowley toward him to hug him as hard as he can. He buries his face in the other's shoulder and feels the delicate and affectionate touch of the demon stroking his hair.

Aziraphale exhales tremblingly because he knows that despite the danger that entailed, the possibility of never having another chance like that is real and terrifying. He knows it and yet he clings to Crowley more strongly, as he always has, and says, "Of course, you, silly demon."

They remain that way for minutes that seem like centuries to them, trying to recover the lost time of 6000 years of fears before reality wakes them up and they have to separate pretending that everything was fine and nothing had changed, although their hearts were beating desperately in a dance that mixed nervousness and happiness.

Fast forward to the near future and there they are, with the same suspicion and danger hanging dangerously on their heads, reciting the vows they created amidst the risk and uncertainty. Aziraphale says "I do," without realizing it, so trapped in memories. Crowley does the same, and they kiss before the judge can declare them legally married, but no matter why it's finally happening, they've come so far, despite everything.

"I'm sorry, but I've been waiting for this for a long time." It's the only poor excuse the redhead gives. Crowley's hand curls around his waist and Aziraphale feels that he has returned home, although deep down he knows that he had never left there, the demon, the candid looks he gave him, the sweet touch against his skin and the delicacy of his lips crashing into his own, lets him know that as long as he had the demon in his life, he would never be alone.

And that's when Aziraphale wakes up startled, shaking the bed. He looks around still disoriented by the dream, his hands looking for a second body in bed, the scene in his head was so real that he could have sworn that it was really happening.

He strains to see in the dark, trying to elucidate between the gloom the red hair and the bright amber eyes of his lover, but there is nothing. He is alone and the other side of the bed is cold, with nothing that seems to indicate the presence of a second person.

Everything's wrong, his demon is gone and the room seems unnaturally empty. It is not until he shouts his name that he notices. When he does, he sits there on the mattress, the hand that attracted Crowley for a kiss just a few days ago covers his mouth while sobs are born from the depths of his throat. It is as if he were crying for the first time again, back to the battlefield and with his cries mingling macabre with the icy air of death and suffering.

After finishing his night sobs, he huddles in bed, still shocked by the way the pain tears him apart. A new wave of tears shakes his body when he feels the weight of the ring on his finger. Somewhere, in a gray field that witnessed the ancient and bloody battle between heaven and hell, there is an identical band in the cold hand of Crowley's body. It is a reminder of what it never was, what it could never be, and Aziraphale closes his eyes, fighting against real memories and those that his mind invented to deal with the truth.

He has been having this particular " _memory_ " since the end of the war, with the heaven crowning as victors, those memories where he and Crowley happily fulfilled their long-standing commitments. With uncertainty about the future and what it could be, but alive and side by side. The closest thing to a fairytale ending they could achieve together.

Always awake with the same feeling of emptiness in his chest, clinging to the sheets while being forced to return to the present, desperate to try to live a fantasy that Crowley had proposed at some point.

Of course, it never happened, and the understanding of that still kills Aziraphale every time he wakes up and looks for the body that wasn't there, which was never found among the blood of his fellow beings. The demon who he never got to marry at the wedding that was only a fairy tale.

He's been dreaming of that day since ever.


End file.
